


My last song

by Moonflower7769



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: AU, Borg Baby, F/F, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 21:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20316292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonflower7769/pseuds/Moonflower7769
Summary: Set in the post Nemesis,  Picard  timeline.We all know that Janeway has a bit of a problem with depression, so when I saw that Seven was going to be in Picard, this story popped into my head.Sorry for the scene, for some reason I can see Admiral Janeway really missing her Seven and space, being not much more than a PADD pusher.It has not been beta'd.Let me know what you think...





	My last song

As I sit and play the last notes of Beethoven on the piano I inherited from my mother, I am reminded of you and my life since. After I saw the hologram program with you and Chakotay, I decided to at least learn your favorite piece of classical music. I knew I shouldn't have been snooping in your private life, but after you were late to a meeting and ignoring your duty shifts, I was concerned. I even gave you a chance to tell me what was going on, but you lied. That is when I knew you had finally begun on your road to humanity as the Borg have no reason for deception.  
It has been over 17 years since we were last together, intimately. I sigh and run my hand through my red hair now streaked with silver as I take another swig from my whiskey and soda, the taste seeming bitter.  
I got our daughter her shuttle , yes, I said OUR daughter. I spent way more than I had planned because I knew she would be taking you to your doctor's appointments at Starfleet for upkeep of your implants. The times we have seen each other since has only driven me more mad with desire for what we once had. The slight touches and hugs only confirming my love for you. I look back and realize that my life stopped the day I walked out on our love. I have been merely existing.  
For a while things seemed to be looking up, you stated that if I came back you would think about getting back together, but it all was a lie. I left again, I could not see you with that man. Again, you invited me back into your life, but it was to be a bridesmaid at your wedding. I even arranged for a well know musician to perform at your wedding. You left and came back. Seems he was not as good for you as you thought.  
Even now, when people see us together at functions that I am forced to appear at, they still think we are partners. It is funny they thought we were together even before WE knew.  
I close the lid on piano, thinking that this seems ironic, a bit of foreshadowing. Picking my drink up off of the coaster, I step outside into the night.  
Now with your implants needing more and more maintenance, you have chosen to live with your distant relatives . The same reason I left . You needed your family since you lost your first two. You needed that closeness. I have no family anymore. My mother passed and with her passing, all family left me as well. You can still function, as I have heard you are going to see someone in your past that you had a great respect for. You have gone on with your life and I must simply let the past be in the past.  
Now, I sit here, in this house that should have probably been condemned after the 2nd flood, with no modern amenities, all I do is work and wallow. I have no zest for life anymore.  
My new boss, as no matter how high you get in the chain of command, one always has a boss, who had known me for less than 60 days bought me a cake for my birthday. No call from anyone. No relatives, no former lovers, no friends. Oh, I had wishes on my birthday from coworkers. But no one who I wanted to hear from.  
Why oh why can I not get past you? Why can I not pull myself out of this funk??  
I stand on the porch of my home on my grandfathers farm, surrounded by the new corn sprouts, hugging myself, staring at the stars sipping my drink. I know this is not what the OTHER Admiral Janeway gave her life up for, but I cannot control your actions. I just want you to be happy, Sev...Annika.  
“What the hell are you looking at?” I curse loudly at the thousands of stars staring back at me and slam my drink down on the railing as the amber liquid splashes out on my hand. I turn around and head back inside, slightly swaying. I have drank too much yet again. I close the door and lock it. Stumbling over the pile of shoes by the door, I decide an Irish coffee would be a good final drink. I set the kettle filled with filtered water to boil on the stove. I never did get one of those replicators in the kitchen. Still surviving on 21st technology out here in the sticks. I open the cabinet and grab a tall mug, the coffee beans, the French press and the grinder. I grind enough beans for a 16 oz cup of coffee, no sense in wasting good beans. Although I am sure by the time someone finally finds my body, they will have gone stale. Carefully placing the coarsely ground coffee in the basket, I pour the hot water in the press and let the beans steep. I open the thermoelectric 7L mini-cooler and withdraw the last bit of cream for the coffee. It seems I have at least done one thing right, timing my last cup of coffee with the last bit of cream. I wobble over to the coffee table where my bottle of Jameson Irish whiskey sits and bring it into the kitchen. Looks like just enough as well. Opening the stasis continer that holds the brown sugar, I scoop out 2 tablespoons and dump it into the mug, 5oz of whiskey follows along with 2oz of cream. The coffee has had enough time to brew, I push down the plunger and am rewarded by a strong rich coffee aroma. I pour the coffee into the mug and stir it all together. Not the proper way to make the drink, but the quickest. I take my drink into the bathroom.  
I turn on my flameless candles, light some incense, find the classical station on the entertainment device and turn on the taps. I stand and watch the bathtub fill for a few moments. I pour some lavender oil, bath salts and bubbles into the tub. With my compromised pulmonary system, I know that the whole bottle of whiskey, the humidity and the stash of stolen pain killers should end my life peacefully. Taking a sip of the strong coffee, I pour out 10 of the 5mg pills into my hand. Swallowing my first sip of coffee, I place half of the pills into my mouth, take another sip of coffee and hold it there to help break down the coating on the pills, getting a bitter taste in my mouth, I swallow. I repeat the process with the second handful of pills. Noticing the tub in nearly full with nothing but hot water, I step inside, not noticing the sting of the water, but noticing the redness. I slowly slid down into the tub, knowing that the hot water will help circulate the overdose into my system much quicker. I lean back and sigh again, getting lost in the music, my breathing slowing down my eyes getting heavy, I wake up a bit as Beethoven Piano Sonata No. 14 in C#minor comes on. I begin playing an imaginary piano as this was the last song I learned to play. As the music nears the end, I close my eyes and let the feeling of darkness wash over me. I have played my last song.


End file.
